tHe haPPy grOUch

tHe haPPy grOUch

Saturday, October 29, 2016

Usually Sunday's are for blogging. Today could be Sunday, for all I know. The last ten days or so have all run together.

Nothing much changes from week to week as I blog. But so much has changed since I last wrote. Life has changed, forever.

This will be a very short version of the story, as it is too long and too painful to recount.

My son lost his younger stepbrother ten days ago. On the morning of Thursday, October 20th, while he was getting ready for school at home, he ended his own life. He was 13 years old. My boy was not at his dad's that morning. He was with me, and already in school when I got that terrifying call from his father. Go get him at school. Get to the hospital.
I can't write about the rest of that day, or these last several days. I've tried to type how this all happened. Tell our story. His story. I've written several lines and deleted them several times more. As much as writing is my outlet, I just can't do it.

He was more than just his stepbrother. He was his partner in crime, his bosom buddy, his best friend, his brother. He was the highlight of his days at his dad's house. They were always together, inseparable. Every week when my boy went to his dad's, they were practically joined at the hip. They grew up together through the years. They may not have been blood brothers, but they were soul and life brothers.

I can't describe the pain my son has been feeling ever since. I wouldn't even know how to try. There are simply no words for it. It is the kind of pain that you can't relate to, or understand, or even imagine. Watching my child experience this has been my worst nightmare come true. I am so angry at life for giving this to him. So angry. Our children are not supposed to have to endure this kind of pain. It is so heartbreaking. He will never be the same again. Neither will I. This kind of suffering should not exist.

He's holding up very well, considering the horror that is going on. The last few days I worry that he's holding up "too well"...  He's done his fair share of sobbing and crying and letting it all out. Now he seems to be internalizing. I think he has to compartmentalize it just so that he can get through each day (I know that's what I've been doing). He has been in school all week. He is hanging out a lot with his best friend. He is keeping busy. But he is in pain. It's just under the surface.
I don't push him to talk about it, but he does once in a while. I've suggested we go see our counselor, and he quickly shot it down. It's too soon. I hope in time he will agree to go.

Him and I have been working on a slideshow, a disc of music, and a video for the services. And as hard as it's been, we've relived a lot of fun memories through those projects. I know they've kept me busy, occupied. Feeling like I'm contributing something. Multiple trips to Walmart for blank DVDs, CDs, and cases, hours spent editing video clips and photos, music downloads, and burning dozens of copies of each for all of the family.

I've been so busy and so horrified for my son that I've hardly had time to do my own grieving for his brother. He was a silly boy.  Full of life and energy and charisma and love. I can't imagine him being gone from this world. His life had just begun, and he had so much more to do, to give.
And I grieve for his mother, and his stepfather (my boy's dad). My heart has broken for them. When I hold them I wish I could pull the pain from them.

My boy has been with me since it happened. Last night was the first night he spent at his dad's house. He just hasn't been ready to go back to that house yet. And we all understand that. As much as I want to shelter and protect him, I know his dad needs him, and his youngest brother needs him. I worried about him all night. I hardly slept (but that really isn't any different than any other night this last week and a half).  I talked to him on the phone last night. He seemed "ok". He was playing video games with his little brother and hanging out. They are surrounded by family and friends. I haven't heard back from him yet this morning. Although he's never been good about returning my texts, that turd. Perhaps he's still sleeping.

I've been trying to be strong for him. Although most times it seems he doesn't need it. I thought maybe he'd "need" me more through this, but he doesn't seem to. He needs this home, to decompress and be away from it all. But he doesn't need me to smother him. And so I'm trying not to. Well, not any more than usual.
He still complains that I touch him too much, hug him too much, say "I love you" too much (that hasn't changed). I've watched these last several days as he's held his dad, his stepmom, his grandparents, his friends... Yet he still shrugs me off when I put my hand on his back or my arm around his shoulder or go in for a hug.. I'm trying not to take it personally. I need all those things, though. But I'm trying to respect his space. Read him. Give him what he needs, and not what he doesn't need. Keep him fed. Keep him company. Just be.

I need all those things, though.
I've been alone through all of this. My boy has been here. My mom has been here. So has my daughter on occasion. Many of my friends have offered up their time. Everyone sending their thoughts and love to me.
But really, I'm alone.
Even the one person I thought would drop everything and come to me, to be my support, did not, has not. That has been a learning experience I will deal with, and write about, another time. What little energy I have is elsewhere right now.

I went back to work this week. I imagine I looked like a deer in headlights. A tired, worn out deer. On autopilot. I stayed after work last night for our annual Halloween party. I tried to wind down, socialize, have "fun". But I felt myself unraveling after a couple hours of it. I left in tears. I came home to my dog and my empty house. After a couple hours of staring blankly at the television, I finally cried myself to sleep.

Being alone has been a difficult thing to for me to deal with as it is. And as usual, I find myself saying- since when? Since when have I become this person who cannot tolerate her own company? Isn't solitude supposed to be empowering, enjoyable, or at the very least, tolerable??
This has been a test of my sanity. And to say it's barely hanging on by a thread is an understatement. Perhaps being alone in this terrible time will help me to learn to love my own company. Be more independent. To be stronger.
It sure doesn't feel that way right now.

Today is the funeral service.
Desperately hoping for peace and strength for my boy, his stepmother, his father, his younger brother, for everyone who loved that kid.
Especially for my boy.

Sunday, October 16, 2016

Another Sunday, another blog.

Nothing much has changed in the last seven days since I've written.
Well, nothing substantial. Well, maybe. Just little things.

Worrying isn't one of them. That never changes.

My boy is still growing up and away from me. And it kills me. I wish he needed me as much as he used to when he was little. At times it seems he doesn't even like me. He doesn't want me to sit too close to him. He hugs me, but it's brief, I can't hold on for more than a second. He says I tell him I love him too much. My male friends tell me this is a normal part of boys growing up. I don't like it. At all.

My daughter just got into her new apartment, finally. After desperately searching for a place that would allow her dog, she finally found one. Less than a week later, her and her boyfriend are having trouble (again). Which of course throws her into worrying about finances... rent, bills, car payment, potentially all alone (Oh, how I know her troubles). Honestly, even though she may be facing these challenges, she would be better off. I hope she realizes this. Recognizes her worth.

Which brings us to a relative point... She's always had the option of moving in with my mother. So have I, for that matter. And with all of us worrying about finances (and I worry about mom getting older), the three of us are actually giving it some consideration. Mom threw out the idea of putting an addition on the house, to make more room for all of us. And then she started really considering it. And so did I. Now I'm trying to design it, lol. Whether or not we actually do it, remains to be seen. It would be very costly for us, initially. But in the end, it would add value to her home, and make it a nicer place for one of us (Me, my kids, my sister, her kids, whomever needed) to live for the future. And it would be very affordable living, as the home is paid off.
I don't know. It's worth considering.
I could afford a car payment then. I could afford to spoil the boy for the last few years he is at home. I could afford to go back to school (again). I could be there to take care of Mom.
And, hell, then I wouldn't be alone, right?
Speaking of which..

My present "relationship" has taken a somewhat unfortunate turn.
Let me start by explaining why I use quotes...
It's existed a year and a half. We use the "L word". We care for one another very, very much.
And yet, we have so many vast differences. Geographical, relationship/communication style, circumstantial, lifestyles... Differences that prevent the relationship from becoming anything more than what it currently is. And what it is, basically, is three-ish days per week spent together, and text messages in between. And yet, an undeniable connection, regardless.
And although we're aware of our future (or lack thereof?), we've always just kept on. Because the alternative, not being together, was a sadder reality. But, is it? Are we preventing each other from finding something more? Are we cheating ourselves out of an opportunity to find a real lifetime companionship? I don't know. I've never known, I guess. I've just kept on keeping on. And so has he. But the reality is always there, buried just under the surface.
But I digress...
All of that might not matter anymore.
Circumstances have arisen that will prevent us from spending much time together anymore (and we have so little time as it is). A substantial difference. Probably as little as one night per week. Maybe even less.
And if I've already become discontent with what little we currently have, how am I (are we) supposed to maintain a "relationship" on what we will have now?
Sigh.
I've cried and cried about it. Cursed the universe, again. For giving me such a complicated situation to begin with, and for making it even more seemingly impossible now.
F%&k you, universe.

But perhaps this is my future.
Perhaps, with all my failed, impossible relationships, this is what I am destined for. Being alone.
But, I can't believe that. As much of a skeptic and cynic (and often times pessimistic) as I am, I still can't truly believe that.
Because I am still a romantic, unfortunately.
And someday, I'll go to sleep next to someone (other than my dog) every night. We'll make breakfast on Sunday mornings. We'll go to kids sporting events, graduations. We'll have designated date nights. We'll vacation. We'll grocery shop together. We'll have grandchildren. We'll get old. And he'll hold my hand while I'm taking my last breath, or I will his.
Someday.

Hey, it's possible.
I recently saw an article in the Bangor Daily News about an elderly couple who were married at the hospital. I guess that means it's not too late for me?
Who knows.

Whatever.
I'm going to go make some cheesy scrambled eggs, stare at the lake, talk to the dog, and watch men in tights (football).

Be well.

Sunday, October 9, 2016

I haven't written much for the past couple weeks, other than a quick blurb.
It's not that there isn't fodder for writing, there always is. Thing is, it's always the same, and I don't want to sound too repetitive.

Things are status quo here. Still alive, still working, still worrying.

The other day I woke at 4am, plagued with what I like to call my "mortality anxiety". I woke thinking about dying. My death. How afraid I am of it. How I wonder who will be there with me at that moment, if anyone at all. My children's' deaths. How I hope to not live to see that day. But then again, if I don't, who will be there to comfort them while they are dying??
I know, morbid, right?
It can't seem to be helped. Sometimes I just go there. More often than I'd like, unfortunately.
I envy people of faith.

I still worry incessantly about my boy. His new four wheeler is the newest source of worry. It's a little race buggy that he drives fast, and jumps, and wheelies... I know he's always geared up... Chest plates, arm protectors, knee pads, helmet... But still. Ugh. Shoot me.
I worry about the little things too. School, his academics, is he making (good) friends, is he making wise choices, is he happy...
He's growing up so fast. He doesn't talk to me like he used to. He doesn't like affection so much anymore. He thinks I tell him I love him too much, he doesn't like it when I call him "babe" anymore (which I've called him for years), he doesn't want me to sit close to him on the couch.
Sigh.
It's his birthday today. He turns 15.
I looked back in my facebook memories today, and saw all kinds of pictures from over the years. You guessed it, I spent a bit of time crying over it all. Maybe more than a bit.

I still hate being alone. I'm still curious as to when that became a problem.
I'm codependent on my son (Norman Bates's mother syndrome still in full effect). I'm codependent on my job, my mother, my daughter, my "part-time" boyfriend, my dog, my beta fish.

I still worry about Daws and I, financially. I'm still doing it so far. But what about my meager savings? Will it be enough to give him a good Christmas? (And don't tell me to show him the spirit of Christmas instead of presents, blah blah friggin blah), Will I make enough to heat the house all winter? Keep paying the bills? The rent? What happens if the truck breaks down? I can't afford a car payment... Will I still be gainfully employed next month, next year? Are we going to make it? Will we be ok???
Jeezus.

Last night I went out for the first time in months. I've become quite a shut-in this last year.
I wouldn't say I had "fun", per say, but it wasn't horrible. It was the typical bar scene action. I got hit on by a woman and two creepy drunk guys. I quietly made fun of various people with my friends. I managed to have a couple drinks, and realized I've become a lightweight when I had to stop at drink number two because I was starting to "feel it" and had to drive home later.
At closing time I was doing a little happy dance as we went out the door. My friend said- "You're excited to go home, aren't you? I haven't seen you this happy all night!"
Ah, the (anti)social life of a shut-in.

I have quite a bit of housework to do. I should get off this damn computer. I have to clean the house, go trade my iphone 6 plus back for an iphone 6 (I hate this gigantic phone), get ready for Dawson's birthday dinner...

I hate to end on a serious note, but...
I've realized nothing much has changed in my life over the years...
I'm still partially happy, at a mediocre level. I'm still sad a lot of the time. I'm still primarily alone.
I'm still waiting for that "something more" point in my life.
Huh.

Ok, maybe I'll end with a joke instead of such solemnity...

What do you call a man with no arms and no legs in the autumn leaves?
Russell.

Saturday, October 1, 2016

Three things that constantly haunt me showed up in my dreams this morning. 

I was on a motorcycle with Dawson. And I was so very scared, I was trying to get somewhere but I was afraid to travel with him on the motorcycle. I was hoping someone would come and pick us up. I was nearly paralyzed with fear, with worry for him.
And then my ex-husband was there, next to me, also on his motorcycle. We were fighting. I was sobbing. He was leaving us, again. 
And then my father was there. I was yelling at him, pleading with him to tell my ex-husband not to leave. I cried- "Tell him! Tell him not to run away, tell him it doesn't solve anything! You know, because that's what you did!"

It made for a sour cup of morning coffee. 

And this morning the heat isn't working in the truck. There goes the Christmas savings fund. 
Sigh.